


Unveil the Ropes

by rrc



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Bonding, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Ghost mysteries, Ghosts, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Idk what im doing lmfao, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inaccuracies abound, Making shit the fuck up: a novel (hopefully), Mystery, Nightmares, Phase Four (Gorillaz), Possession, Russel-Centric, Sleep Deprivation, Timeline What Timeline, Trauma, like regular mysteries but better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 13:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16119698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrc/pseuds/rrc
Summary: Russel never thought he'd go down this road again. Not like this.Warnings:body horror, gore, nightmares, past trauma, past canon character death, possession, magic and witchcraft. Warnings will change as fic progresses.





	Unveil the Ropes

**Author's Note:**

> I have an idea and i need to get it out _right fucking now_ before i go crazy. Uhhhh everything about this fic is subject to change at any given time. Help.

It was always the same. Every single night, the same.

That should have been sign enough, regardless of the content. That should have been warning enough.

He was no amateur. He was no civilian, desperately trying to bury, to dismiss and deny. To cling to whatever little normalcy he had left. To crush down the dread spreading slowing inside his stomach. Blooming softly inside his chest, choking out the air in his lungs.

The dream was always the same. He didn't remember it in its entirety, but he knew. He just knew. Like a worn out groove. Like a repeating pattern dancing into eternity.  

He couldn't breathe. Everything was wrong. Everything was out of step. The concrete slid around beneath his shoes and he just couldn't breathe. 

_“You worry too much,”_ Del's voice broke out among the blur, the writhing shadows and colors and shapes and chaotic scraps of sound. _“You're always worryin’ too damn much…”_

Bile rose in Russel's throat. This he remembered. This he knew. Without the dream. Everything else was hazey about that night but he'd never...never ever forget that…

_ “You worry too much…and who's worryin’ over you?”  _

And a crooked smile. A soft smile. 

His chest was collapsing. The bile was choking him. 

Then screaming. All that noise. A jagged knife cutting deep into his spine. Splitting his head. Del's skin turned blue. His eyes were consumed by white. 

And then he started to decay before him. 

It's nothing. It's nothing. Nothing he hadn't seen before it's nothing it's nothing it's

Del is still smiling. And then he's not. There's blue. Static. 

Del says something but Russel doesnt hear it. He looks so panicked. But all Russel hears is choked, rasping whispers and static. Death rattles and interference. 

And then he feels the touch of something cold over his chest. He doesn't know who or what it is. But it's not Del.

 

And then he wakes up.

 

And then he woke up.  
  


* * *

 

Rssel's lungs begged for air and he obliged to the best of his abilities. He felt cold. 

He lay there, staring at the ceiling. It seemed blurry. His eyes felt wet. 

He turned over curling up, hugging himself. 

He let out a choked sob. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
